Night Swimming (21 page)

She tore herself away from Sean’s hold, hysteria threatening. “Oh, my God,” she cried. “That’s
my
mother
!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

“Hello? Mother? Where are you? Mother, are you here?” And Kaye Alcott, a vision in red silk, burst into May Ellen’s guest room. The heels of her taupe sling-backs slipped on the thick pile carpet. For a second she teetered in wide-eyed astonishment. “
Lily?
” she gaped. “What on earth are you two doing here? And where’s Mother?”

“Uh, hi, Mother,” Lily said, crossing her arms defensively, hiding her breasts as best she could. She hadn’t had time to check that her bra was hooked properly, and could only thank her stars that her T-shirt was long enough to cover the waistband of her shorts. The buttons were still undone. Her hands had been shaking too badly to deal with them. If her mother noticed, Lily planned to pretend her new fashion guru was Britney Spears—no, her mother would never fall for that one. Lily would have given anything to be a thousand miles away from here, so she could button her shorts, fix her bra, and try and remember how to breathe—without her mother watching.

Her mother, of course, looked stunning. Whatever cruise she and her husband, Scott Alcott, had taken boasted an excellent spa. Kaye’s golden hair was artfully swept back, her face tanned yet wrinkle free. Kaye Alcott appeared far too young to have been married four times. She looked young enough to be Lily’s sister—Lily’s very chic, very sophisticated sister.

Her mother’s eyes swept over the room, a careful inspection that missed nothing, neither the forgotten beers, the painting lying facedown on the carpet, nor what Lily knew must be her own very disheveled appearance.

“What in the world are you doing here, Lily?” Her mother repeated the question.

Fighting the urge to escape out the door, Lily hugged her folded arms tighter still. “I’m hanging pictures.”

Kaye’s perfectly plucked brows arched in disbelief. “You’re in Coral Beach to hang pictures?”

“Oh!” Feeling like an idiot, Lily shook her head violently. “No, I’m doing a reef study.”

“You’re supposed to be in the Bahamas.”

“Well, yes—”

“And what have you done to your hair?”

Lily froze. What had she done to her hair? More pertinently, what had
Sean
done to her hair?

“Lily’s here because the town needed a marine biologist to replace the one we’d hired for our reef study.”

For the first time since she struggled free of Sean’s intimate embrace, Lily hazarded a glance in his direction. Her breath caught in her throat. Sean’s eyes gleamed with a dangerous, unsettling light. The angled planes of his face were carved in harsh relief by skin stretched taut. His entire being screamed of stormy passion held in ruthless check.

Kaye’s wide, china blue eyes focused on Sean. Lily was sure her mother was piecing the scenario together, adding it all up. Amazingly, her mother’s lips curled in what looked very much like a satisfied smile. “Well, that clears up one thing. And you’re here, Sean, because?” she asked, her tone arch.

Well, Kaye, I’m here because of your daughter. As a
matter of fact, I was just about to make love to Lily when
you showed up. And goddamnit, I’m so hard I might
crack,
he added mentally along with a string of vicious curses.

If Sean had been slightly less disciplined, he’d have drawn the sheer curtains in May Ellen’s guest room and tossed Lily’s mother out the window. It wouldn’t hurt. This was a ranch; she’d land in the shrubbery. His fingers twitched. They were coated with the haunting essence of Lily. With Kaye gone, he could pull Lily into his arms again and rekindle the lush-scented heat of her desire. He cast a longing glance toward the curtained window. A flicker of movement outside distracted him for a moment.
What was that?
he wondered.

“Yes, Sean?” Kaye prompted ever so sweetly.

Sean realized he hadn’t gotten around to answering Kaye. “I’m here to give Lily a hand.” He’d be giving her his body if Kaye hadn’t waltzed in. “And I think Lily’s hair looks great this way. Sexy as hell.”

“Yes, it is rather. It’s just so different.” Her mother’s gaze sharpened and an expression of horror crossed her features. “Lily, have you been out in the sun without any block? You
know
what happens to your skin. . . . Is that a rash on your neck?”

Have I ever liked Kaye?
Sean asked himself. Forget tossing her out a window, he could strangle her instead. “Leave Lily alone, Kaye,” he said, determined to stop the maternal tirade before Kaye could gather steam. “Hanging pictures is hot work. We were about to break for a beer.” Sean scooped the beers off the floor and strode to where Lily was standing. He took her hand and pressed a beer into it. She wore a shell-shocked expression, as if she were caught in the middle of an adolescent nightmare with Kaye reprising her favorite role: the hypercritical mom.

He leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Relax and take a long swig of beer. It’ll help.” His voice dropped lower still. “If you want me to, I’ll gladly chuck her out the window.”

Lily choked back appalled mirth. “Thanks.” Then did as Sean suggested, chugging down several gulps of lukewarm beer.

“Thatta girl,” Sean murmured in approval, and took a long sip himself. “Would you like one?” he asked Kaye belatedly, holding the remaining beer out in invitation.

“Why not?” Kaye shrugged.

Startled, Lily stared. Her mother wasn’t exactly the beer swilling type.

“But would you mind terribly fetching me a glass, please?”

Sean’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t want to leave Lily alone to the mercy of Kaye. Perhaps he should take Kaye into the kitchen and give her a Hal Storey special, a little lecture on what her daughter needed.

“And Sean?” Kaye smiled prettily. “While you’re in the kitchen, you might want to call your mother. I’m sure Dana is searching all over town for you.”

Nice try, Kaye,
Sean thought, and gave her a cool smile. “My mother has enough tact to leave me alone,” he said pointedly.

Without Sean’s presence to act as a buffer, Lily bore the brunt of her mother’s scrutiny. She downed the rest of her beer. Sean was right. It did help. It was only too bad she didn’t have a keg. She set the empty bottle aside and picked up the fallen painting from the carpet. She prayed it wasn’t damaged, and felt herself color at the thought of explaining to Granny May exactly how her painting had gotten that way.

She cleared her throat and, injecting a cheery note into her voice, said, “Well, I guess it’s time to get back to work.”

“Lily?”

Warily, she turned to face her mother.

“I’m . . . ” Kay hesitated fractionally, then continued, “I’m sorry if I made things awkward for you just now.”

Lily felt her jaw come unhinged. Her mother had never uttered the word
sorry
to her before. Never. Ever.

Her astonishment must have been as plain as the love bites on her neck, for Kaye gave a wry smile. “I really wasn’t thinking too clearly when I walked into the room. Rattled, I guess. I’d been calling for Mother when I thought I heard a noise coming from this room. I immediately assumed she’d fallen and injured herself.”

“No, she’s fine. She went off with Mrs. Prentiss to have her hair done.”

Kaye’s eyebrows drew together. “How odd. I called her yesterday to tell her I was arriving. We agreed I’d drive her to Ida’s tomorrow.”

Lily shrugged. “I’m pretty sure that’s where Granny May said she was going.”

“And when we talked, she didn’t even mention you were in town—that’s totally unlike her, too.”

“Perhaps the party plans have made her distracted.” Although May Ellen hadn’t struck Lily as being either distracted or forgetful.

“Party? What party?”

“It’s this Saturday . . . ,” Lily replied vaguely. She didn’t want to go into
why
May Ellen felt the need to throw a party. Instead she gestured about her. “She decided to give the rooms a new look by changing the art on the walls.”

“And so you’re hanging pictures for her?” Kaye asked carefully. Her frown deepened.

Lily nodded. “Sounds pretty strange, doesn’t it? But her doctor advised against any heavy lifting and she was bound and determined to redecorate.” She gave a short laugh. “So here I am.”

“She hasn’t redecorated in twenty years,” her mother said firmly. “Lloyd Gans told her not to lift things?”

“Yeah.” She nodded again. “Granny May’s been having dizzy spells.”

“Dizzy spells?” Kaye’s blue eyes grew round as saucers. “Mother’s having dizzy spells?”

“Yup, Dr. Gans made a house call one evening. I was there,” Lily informed her. God, this was weird, a real
Twilight Zone
moment. Here she was, a source of inside knowledge, briefing her mother.

Her mother, too, seemed to recognize the bizarreness of the situation. She shook her blond head slowly back and forth, her lips curved in a perplexed smile. “I’m going to have to give Lloyd Gans a call, find out what’s going on,” she said. “But I’m glad you’ve been here, Lily, to look after Mother. Especially with her acting this peculiarly.”

“Granny hasn’t acted all that peculiarly,” Lily said, feeling the need to defend May Ellen. “We’ve had some nice talks together.”

Kaye inclined her head. “Is that so? I’m glad to hear that.” Then she gave Lily a smile, a warm smile, and while Lily stood paralyzed with confusion, she kicked off her high heels. Picking up a painting, Kaye asked, “Now, where does this one go?”

Sean was careful to hide his surprise at the unprecedented sight of Kaye and Lily working side by side. He was relieved, too, that he wouldn’t have to toss Kaye out the window—at least not yet. But that meant he had to figure out another way to get Lily alone.

“That needs to go up a bit on the left, Lily,” Kaye said. “There, that’s perfect.”

“Here’s your beer, Kaye.”

“Oh, lovely.” She smiled her thanks. “Just set it over there, Sean.” Kaye waved to the end table near a blue-and-gold-striped chaise longue.

“Uh, do you mind if I borrow Lily for a moment, Kaye? Something’s come up about the reef study I need to discuss.”

“Of course not,” Kaye replied cheerfully. “I need a break. You’re right, Sean, this is hot work.” Kaye settled herself on the chaise and took a dainty sip of beer.

At any other moment, Sean would have stuck around to savor the incongruous sight of Kaye Alcott drinking beer in her stockinged feet. Instead, he grabbed Lily’s hand and with an, “If you’ll excuse us, Kaye,” practically dragged her out of the room and down the hallway. Then, before Lily could begin asking him what in the world he was doing, he had her pinned against the wall, his mouth moving hungrily over hers.

“I think I’m addicted,” he murmured huskily, when his lips at last released hers. “You’ve got me craving you, Lily,” he confessed as his teeth worried her lower lip. “But damnit all, I’ve got to leave. I just checked in with Evelyn. All hell’s breaking loose. We’ve been threatened with a lawsuit over the accident at the Bellemer Bridge, and someone’s leaked a story to the press about a certain development project that would bring in piles of money and countless jobs for the town if only the mayor would back the proposal. And the only thing I can think about is when I’ll be able to have you to myself.” His mouth slanted, covering hers, kissing her deeply. “When, Lily? When can I see you?” he demanded in an urgent whisper.

“I . . .” The sentence degenerated into a moan. Sean’s fingertips were tracing the shell of her ear. How was it possible that he knew exactly where to touch her?
Would
it always be like this?
she wondered dazedly. A touch, and she was robbed of coherent speech. Valiantly, she tried again. “I have to go back to the lab.”

His eyes were mesmerizing in the soft light of the hallway. “Tonight then? Tell me tonight, Lily.”

“I don’t know—” She hardly recognized her own voice, breathless and quavery.

“I do.” His hands began to knead the nape of her neck, and Lily’s limbs turned to jelly. “You and I have unfinished business. By my count, I owe you two orgasms.” His words ignited a fire within her. “That’s just for starters,” he murmured with a smile that turned the fire into a blaze. “I want to give you as many as you can take, Lily.” The flames raced, licking her everywhere. “A good politician doesn’t welch on his promises. Tonight is ours. I promise, Lily.” With a devastating smile, he sealed the promise with a last, lingering kiss. “Until later,
cara
.”

Lily managed to hold on until she heard the front door slam. Boneless, she slid to the floor.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Lily stepped out of the condominium’s elevator and began walking down the carpeted corridor. Busy thinking about a long, steamy shower and massive amounts of food and which she’d rather indulge in first, she didn’t immediately notice the object lying on the carpet.

Her feet slowed unconsciously as she tried to identify whatever it was half-obscured by the gloom. All she could tell from here was that the thing was brown and large, and was resting against her and Karen’s door.

Was it perhaps a really big, dead rat?
she wondered, then gave a mental shake. She must be even more tired than she realized; she was beginning to have walking nightmares.

Nevertheless, she approached cautiously until she saw that it wasn’t an animal, dead or alive, but a box . . . or, rather, the remains of one. Its corners squashed, its edges ripped, and the cardboard stained and scuffed, the box looked like it had been used as a soccer ball in a match played by very competitive gorillas.

Lily bent down and peered at the label. Though smudged to the point of illegibility, she made out the words
University of Miami
in the upper left-hand corner. It must be Dr. Lesnesky’s papers. But if this was the graduate assistant’s handwriting, he needed to go back to first grade for a refresher course.

But who was she to criticize another scientist’s assistant? She had just spent an hour at the lab, labeling all the samples from today’s dive by herself. John had been supposed to join her there, but he hadn’t bothered to put in an appearance. Right now, sloppy handwriting seemed a minor deficiency compared to an assistant who didn’t show up for work.

She dug the key from her bag, unlocked the door, and opened it without calling out, “Hello.” Karen had said she was going to try to sleep off her bout of seasickness. With a tired sigh, Lily tugged the heavy carton across the threshold and into the apartment.

An hour later the living room looked like it had been hit by a snowstorm. White papers covered every surface. Lily stood in the center, surveying the disaster around her, and wanted to howl with frustration. She closed her eyes, wishing the papers back in the box. Wishing she’d never opened it. She still couldn’t believe the state of Lesnesky’s so-called report. The papers seemed to have been dumped inside, with everything randomly mixed together, dates and dive locations completely jumbled.

She’d begun the arduous task of sorting through them. By Lily’s calculation, it would take several more hours before the papers were in some semblance of order. What was far more troubling, however, was the lurking suspicion that Lesnesky’s notes themselves would be equally disorganized and incoherent.

Her worries were interrupted by a loud rap on the door. Could it be Sean? She hurried to open it.

Disappointment mixed with annoyance had her frowning at John Granger. “Where have you been?” she demanded, rounding on him as he sauntered into the apartment.

“What do you mean?” John countered. His eyes lit on the damaged box and the piles of paper, but he studiously kept his face blank, as if Lesnesky’s papers held no interest—which wasn’t far from the truth. Pete Ferrucci had paid him three thousand bucks to go through every damned sheet and make sure none of Lesnesky’s data showed numbers that might indicate elevated levels of pollutants. Hell of a boring job—but the cash sure was sweet.

He pulled out a stool by the kitchen’s breakfast bar, sat down, and gave her a guileless smile. “I went to the lab. You weren’t there. Then I started poking around and saw you’d labeled all the samples. What happened? Did your granny nod off?”

“No,” Lily enunciated through clenched teeth. “John, I told you to meet me at the lab at four P.M. Where were—”

“No, you told me five.” John tapped the face of his watch. “I remember specifically. Even set my alarm. You said five, Lily. That’s when I showed up.”

Lily stared at him in disbelief as she tried to remember their conversation. She was sure she’d said four o’clock. Was it possible she’d gotten confused? What a stupid question. She’d been so distracted by Sean, by his intoxicating kisses, it was a wonder she’d even remembered that she was supposed to meet John, let alone get the hour right. Wearily she rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry John. My mistake. I guess I got mixed up.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he said, and rolled his eyes.

John had a right to be surly,
Lily thought. She was the one who’d screwed up. As the head scientist, she was in charge, responsible for everything running smoothly. Instead, her thoughts revolved endlessly around Sean. The condition terrified her, for she wasn’t certain of Sean’s feelings for her—beyond an obviously intense physical attraction. She knew he’d be generous with his passion, but was that all Sean would willingly give of himself? She tried to calm her fears with the thought that she’d see him tonight, that they’d talk, that she could trust him with her heart.

“Hello!”

Lily started. John was waving a hand in front of her face. “Hello,” he repeated. “Earth to Banyon,”

“Oh, sorry, John. What were you saying?”

“Where’s Karen?”

“She’s still asleep. I guess she must have been feeling pretty lousy.”

John gave a disgusted shake of his head. “Which means she didn’t add any new stuff to my Web site like she said she would.”

Lily felt her patience snap. She opened her mouth to tell him that Karen had already spent hours revamping his site, when the phone rang. It pealed shrilly on the counter beside John’s elbow. “Excuse me,” she said coolly, and picked it up. “Hello? Michelle! Thanks for calling back. Yes, I was wondering whether you’d be willing to take a look at this film a photographer friend of mine made. Yes, she works at the center too. No, it’s a short piece, about twenty minutes long.” Lily paused, listening, then said, “Her name is Karen Masur,” and spelled Karen’s name aloud. “Terrific, I’ll tell her to mention that in her cover letter. Yes, I’ve got your address at the
Geographic
. Thanks a million, Michelle. Talk to you soon.”

She hung up and turned back to John. “Is something the matter?” she asked.

“Why should something be the matter?” he replied.

Lily certainly didn’t know. But John’s eyes had narrowed to angry slits. She shrugged. “No reason.”

Jesus Christ,
thought John, seething with resentment. It was just like Ferrucci had predicted. Banyon was more than willing to help her dyke girlfriends get ahead, but she wouldn’t do shit for him. He couldn’t fucking believe it. Goody-two-shoes Karen Masur was going to get to play documentary filmmaker. One telephone call from Banyon, and Karen was sending her dumbass movie to
National Geographic
. It was funny. John had actually suffered a moment of guilty indecision before agreeing to help Ferrucci with his little problem. He sure as hell didn’t have any qualms now, though. Banyon deserved whatever she got. Her reputation was way overblown anyway—she wasn’t even smart enough to figure out what was going on. And he’d take Pete Ferrucci as a friend over Banyon any day. Thanks to Pete, John was making a shitload of easy money.

“Well, I’m outta here,” he announced. He wasn’t going to waste his time hanging around here. He’d go have a few drinks at the Dolphin before picking Trish up at her place.

“Why don’t you wait?” Lily suggested. “Karen’s bound to wake up soon. Maybe she’ll be able to work on your site.”

Right.
Like I want to sit around this dump and hold
hands with Karen,
he scoffed silently. “Tell her maybe I’ll drop by later this evening.”

And there went the ever-charming John Granger,
Lily thought, shaking her head, as the door slammed loudly behind him.

Miso soup. Her life was reduced to making miso soup. Lily stirred the pot’s contents glumly, watching bean curd bob to the surface like broken bits of Styrofoam floating in a backwater.

Sean hadn’t called and hadn’t come by.

John hadn’t returned, either. Lily was beginning to think men were as lousy as bean curd.

With nothing to do but wait for Sean, she had picked up Lesnesky’s papers and stacked them on the table. Then Karen had tottered in, looking like death warmed over, and Lily had abandoned the papers for the contents of the refrigerator. She was too tired to deal with Lesnesky’s report, and Karen needed something in her system.

A braided ball of misery, Karen was presently curled up on the sofa with a blanket wrapped around her. She’d turned the TV on. From the kitchen, Lily could hear some sitcom dishing out canned laughter every three minutes.

The soup looked ready—but really, how could she tell? What was there to check? It was clear to Lily she wouldn’t last twenty-four hours as a vegan. She yanked open drawer after drawer, searching for something she might use as a ladle, and ended up with a large plastic spoon. Grabbing a dish towel, she tipped the hot soup into two bowls, then added spoonfuls of seaweed, diced scallion, and cubed bean curd to the steaming broth.

“I heated up some pita bread,” she said, as she carried the first bowl over to Karen. “Think your stomach can handle anything else?”

“No, this is great, though.” Karen smiled wanly. “Thanks, Lily.” She took a slow, cautious sip of the soup.

“I watched the news while you were asleep,” Lily told her. “The local forecast says it’s supposed to be much calmer tomorrow. But as we only have two transects left, I was thinking that we could wait until the afternoon, give your stomach a chance to settle. It won’t matter if we finish a day later—I can still get the results from the lab—”

“No.” Karen shook her head. “I’m sure my stomach will be fine by tomorrow morning. And it’s stupid to delay when we’re this close to the end.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” Lily fell silent, staring blindly at the TV.

When the doorbell rang, she jumped. “No, I’ll get it, Karen,” she said, hastily putting aside her miso soup. She strode to the door, excitement flowing through her veins.
Sean
. He’d said he’d find her later. It must have been total chaos at town hall. Perhaps he’d tell her about it after they had made love. How many orgasms
could
she take? Lily’s breath quickened. She’d never had a lover who was interested in finding out, but she knew with delicious certainty that Sean would conduct a very thorough, very rigorous study. She opened the door.

Her smile faltered, died, becoming an
Oh
of ill-concealed disappointment. “Uh, hi, Mother,” Lily said belatedly.

“Hello, Lily.”

Her mother twice in one day. Could she stand it? Then, remembering some semblance of manners, she stepped back and said, “Please, come in.”

“Thank you.”

Karen was looking a bit livelier, interest animating her face. “Hi,” she said to Kaye.

“Mother, this is my roommate, Karen Masur. She’s a photographer at the Marine Center. Karen, this is my mother, Kaye Alcott. Uh, can I offer you something to drink, Mother?”

“No, thank you. Actually, Lily, I came by to see whether I might invite you to dinner. There’s a lovely Italian restaurant Dana and I have grown quite fond of.”

Lily’s stomach rumbled at the thought of a real meal, with real food. But accepting meant sharing a meal with her mother and perhaps missing Sean. “I’m sorry, Mother. I’m going to stay in tonight. Karen—”

“Oh, that’s all right, Lily,” Karen said. “Don’t worry about me. I’m feeling loads better now that I’ve had something to eat. Lily made some miso to settle my stomach, Mrs. Alcott,” she explained.

“Miso?”

“Karen’s a vegan,” Lily said to her mother.

“Oh. How nice,” Kaye said politely.

Lily was pretty sure her mother had no idea what the term meant.
Klingon
would have as much resonance. So when her mother turned to her with a pleading light in her eyes, and said, “Please, Lily. I’d really like to have a chance to talk with you privately,” she relented.

“I’ll need a few minutes to change.”

“Take your time. Karen and I will sit and chat.”

As Lily left the room, she heard her mother ask, “Uh, how does one cook miso?”